Poems, Volume 3J. Miller, 1864 |
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Página 1
... hear That murmur of the outer Infinite Which unweaned babies smile at in their sleep When wondered at for smiling ; not so far , But still I catch my mother at her post Beside the nursery - door , with finger up , ' Hush , hush - here's ...
... hear That murmur of the outer Infinite Which unweaned babies smile at in their sleep When wondered at for smiling ; not so far , But still I catch my mother at her post Beside the nursery - door , with finger up , ' Hush , hush - here's ...
Página 21
... tree , and you will not look ? I make the birds sing - listen ! . . but , for you . God never hears your voice , excepting when You lie upon the bed at nights and weep . ' Then , something moved me . Then , I wakened AURORA 21 LEIGH .
... tree , and you will not look ? I make the birds sing - listen ! . . but , for you . God never hears your voice , excepting when You lie upon the bed at nights and weep . ' Then , something moved me . Then , I wakened AURORA 21 LEIGH .
Página 22
... hear the silence open like a flower , Leaf after leaf , -and stroke with listless hand The woodbine through the window , till at last I came to do it with a sort of love , At foolish unaware : whereat I smiled , - A melancholy smile ...
... hear the silence open like a flower , Leaf after leaf , -and stroke with listless hand The woodbine through the window , till at last I came to do it with a sort of love , At foolish unaware : whereat I smiled , - A melancholy smile ...
Página 34
... hear my task , And verify my abstract of the book ? And should I sit down to the crochet work ? Was such her pleasure ? ' . . Then I sate and teased The patient needle till it split the thread , Which oozed off from it in meandering ...
... hear my task , And verify my abstract of the book ? And should I sit down to the crochet work ? Was such her pleasure ? ' . . Then I sate and teased The patient needle till it split the thread , Which oozed off from it in meandering ...
Página 43
... hear the cymbal tinkle in white hands !, When Egypt's slain , I say , let Miriam sing ! - Before . . where's Moses ? ' ' Ah - exactly that Where's Moses ? -is a Moses to be found ? - You'll seek him vainly in the bulrushes , While I in ...
... hear the cymbal tinkle in white hands !, When Egypt's slain , I say , let Miriam sing ! - Before . . where's Moses ? ' ' Ah - exactly that Where's Moses ? -is a Moses to be found ? - You'll seek him vainly in the bulrushes , While I in ...
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Poems: Complete ... Corrected by the Last London Ed, Volume 3 Elizabeth Barrett Browning Visualização integral - 1869 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
answered Aurora Leigh babe better blood blue air breath catch cheeks child cousin Romney creature cried curse dare dead dear dream drop dropt earth Emperor Evermore eyes face father feel Florence flower girl God's Grand Duke grave grief half hand head heart heaven henceforth honour Italy Kate Ward keep kiss Lady Waldemar laugh leave light lips live look Lord man's Marian Erle Mark Gage marriage Miss Leigh mother Muse NAPOLEON III never night nosegay once passion paused perhaps phalanstery pity poets poor pray pretty Proclus Romney Leigh Romney's rose round sate scarcely scorn sigh sight silence Sir Blaise smile soul speak spoke stand stood strong sweet talk thee there's thing thou thought touch truth turned Tuscan twas twixt voice walk weep wife woman women word write wrong
Passagens conhecidas
Página 35 - ... gentle dimplement, (As if God's finger touched but did not press In making England) such an up and down Of verdure, — nothing too much up or down, A ripple of land; such little hills, the sky Can stoop to tenderly and the wheatfields climb; Such nooks of valleys lined with orchises, Fed full of noises by invisible streams; And open pastures where you scarcely tell White daisies from white dew, — at intervals The mythic oaks and elm-trees standing out Self-poised upon their prodigy of shade,...
Página 35 - And view the ground's most gentle dimplement (As if God's finger touched, but did not press In making England!), such an up and down Of verdure — nothing too much up or down, A ripple of land ; such little hills, the sky Can stoop to tenderly, and...
Página 2 - When scarcely I was four years old, my life A poor spark snatched up from a failing lamp Which went out therefore. She was weak and frail; She could not bear the joy of giving life, The mother's rapture slew her.
Página 163 - A little overgrown (I think there is), Their sole work is to represent the age, Their age, not Charlemagne's - this live, throbbing age, That brawls, cheats, maddens, calculates, aspires, And spends more passion, more heroic heat, Betwixt the mirrors of its drawing-rooms, Than Roland with his knights at Roncesvalles. To flinch from modern varnish, coat or flounce, Cry out for togas and the picturesque, Is fatal - foolish too.
Página 164 - Never flinch, But still, unscrupulously epic, catch Upon the burning lava of a song The full-veined, heaving, double-breasted Age . That, when the next shall come, the men of that May touch the impress with reverent hand, and say ' Behold, —behold the paps we all have sucked ! This bosom seems to beat still, or at least It sets ours beating : this is living art, Which thus presents and thus records true life.
Página 397 - shalt thou write My curse to-night. Because thou hast strength to see and hate A foul thing done within thy gate.' ' Not so,' I answered once again. ' To curse, choose men. For I, a woman, have only known How the heart melts and the tears run down.
Página 162 - An age of scum, spooned off the richer past, An age of patches for old gaberdines, An age of mere transition, meaning nought Except that what succeeds must shame it quite If God please. That's wrong thinking, to my mind, And wrong thoughts make poor poems. Every age, Through being beheld too close, is ill-discerned By those who have not lived past it.
Página 254 - I felt the wind soft from the land of souls ; The old miraculous mountains heaved in sight, One straining past another along the shore, The way of grand dull Odyssean ghosts Athirst to drink the cool blue wine of seas, And stare on voyagers. Peak pushing peak, They stood. I watched, beyond that Tyrian belt...
Página 239 - Which so, that she might clutch with both her hands, And chink to her naughty uses undisturbed, She served me (after all it was not strange : 'Twas only what my mother would have done) A motherly, right damnable good turn.